


#Angill

by omaroma



Category: Single Parents (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24617794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omaroma/pseuds/omaroma
Summary: Basically this is just a series of SHORT one-shots/character studies that explain what might be going on in Will’s or Angie’s minds as they say/hear/do some of the things they say/hear/do throughout the series. I love EVERY character on this amazing show, but ANGIE/WILL are #goals, #endgame, and #soulmates and no matter what happens with the show, I need more of them in my life! I’m hoping to do at least one quote/scene for each episode. Should be able to turn out new chapters pretty quickly since I watch this show ALL THE TIME. :)
Relationships: Will Cooper/Angie D'Amato
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First impressions

**S01E01 PILOT**

**“I told you, mush works.”**

* * *

“I told you, mush works.”

Angie tried to ignore the tiny seed of amusement and maybe a twisted kind of interest in the strange new addition to their “village” (crap, now he had _her_ saying mush like that in her head!). The moment of elation over Graham _not_ getting dunked on for once had clearly gotten away from her--had she actually _hugged_ Will just now? She looked him over, head to toe, trying to decide what exactly she felt and settling on begrudging acceptance. Sure, he had zippered shorts/pants and kept hot popcorn in a sequined mermaid bag ( _seriously, dude?_ ), and sure, now he was pairing a weirdly-patterned button-up with a sweatshirt that he had probably had since college, but he _had_ helped Graham get his first girlfriend, and that was no small thing to a member of the D’Amato family.

Plus, y’know, knowing she could definitely take him in a fight and knowing he probably knew that, too? That helped.

He certainly was unlike most men she knew, anyway. Derek was a jerk, the kind of guy that was hot and flaky and thoughtless and cruel and _hot_ (but probably not anymore, right? Eight years on the road and then working fast food _had_ to have been unkind to that hunky bod of his…). Miggy was young and sweet, but also clueless and clearly had issues of his own. Scratch that, he had a whole _subscription_ , and she was happy leaving that mess-of-a-project to Poppy. And Douglas was...well...Douglas. Owen was a fun distraction, like so many that had come before--a nice guy who met most of her needs _quite_ well (thank you very much), and (most importantly) didn’t push too hard, so it was easy to fit him around the craziness of her life whenever and however it suited her. But Will? First impressions told her he wouldn’t be so...pliant.

At first, when he had pitched Taco Tuesday in that ridiculously incessant way, she had felt annoyed. Then, talking with him in his bedroom and learning more about him, she had felt a kind of pity (if that was something she allowed herself to feel, which it wasn’t). Hearing Graham say that Will had given him advice about Bunny Ears and then acted completely without her say had naturally caused some fear and anger, but the sirens on the other side of the phone as she was yelling at Will reminded her that the poor sap obviously had bigger fish to fry. When he had somehow worked his dork-dad magic and gotten _Douglas_ to sing and dance, in front of the police, no less, well...suddenly she was annoyed again, but intrigued, too, although more in a “did I just step into an alternate reality?!” kind of way. Down was up and left was right and what did she know, anyway? Might as well go along for the ride, because there was obviously no turning back from this train wreck now.

The hug hadn’t been too bad; brief as it was, she understood in a moment what he had been talking about earlier. Having someone to share and celebrate the good stuff with? Huh. That was new. And not totally objectionable. And, anyway, anyone who wasn’t a psychopath that was willing to take on all the kids for free babysitting at the drop of a hat was welcome in her book.

Jury was still out, but...including and mentoring him in his return to adulthood would prove entertaining for a while, at least. He kind of reminded her of a lost little puppy that you just couldn’t help but adopt. She followed her friends out to the blacktop, and as they cheered him on while he threw that mermaid bag away (over and over and over again, _man_ was she a good person for taking him on!), she watched him (figuratively and a little bit literally) wag his tail in joy. 

She had always wanted a puppy.


	2. Sleepover Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One-on-one hangs and Angie's feelings about them.

**S01E02 SLEEPOVER READY**

**“You and I have yet to have our one-on-one hang time.”**

* * *

“But Douglas! You and I have yet to have our one-on-one hang time.”

Angie’s initial amusement and disgust as Will droned on about his “so many great one-on-one hangs” with the group quickly transformed into wariness. She wasn’t offended he hadn’t mentioned her, honestly. Aside from preparing him for his date a few weeks ago, she hadn’t spent much time alone with Will--and it didn’t bother her one bit. Honestly. She had Graham and Poppy and Owen, and occasionally fit in her work (only when absolutely necessary and only to the extent that she didn’t get fired), and that didn’t leave much room for anyone else in her life. The fact that he had spent time with almost everyone else in their group was a little surprising at first, but she got over it quickly enough. Did she have a few walls up? Maybe, yeah, sure, but it was fine and for the best, honestly. And the way he still had that cute lost puppy thing going on? It wasn’t appealing at all. Honestly!

What would they even do together? What would they talk about? The initial getting-to-know you phase was over with, and now they were just babysitting pals on the grid, one of whom over-eagerly overshared overmuch. Like right now. Sure, they could talk about their kids for pretty much ever, but they could do that in the group at the schoolyard just as easily as not. Worried that he might try to rope her into something super cheesy or weird, she made a face to warn him off, but was pleased when he began to fixate on Douglas. Man, that man needed to get a life and some real friends of his own. Huh...that worked for both of the men, actually.

She literally was tongue in cheek trying to hide a smile as Will feigned machismo and waxed poetic about steak, choosing to focus her eyes on the grid and her phone so as not to draw more attention to herself. He had kept looking back to her earlier, when talking about Miggy breaking his laundry basket and Poppy’s sex crystal lessons, and it was a little weird, right? It’s not like she cared where the crystal was. Thank goodness he seemed infatuated with Douglas and seemed to be putting all of his energy there for the time being.

Suddenly she caught herself wondering if Owen knew about sex crystals or would ever wear one just because Poppy said to. Weird how quickly her train of thought derailed.

Her phone buzzed as she heard Will start talking about bagels. It was Poppy, as in her best friend  _ sitting right across from her. _

> _POPPY: Can you imagine those two at the club together?_
> 
> _ANGIE: Pretty sure that’s the start of a disaster movie I saw once._
> 
> _POPPY: Poor guy is trying too hard._
> 
> _ANGIE: Bagels do sound good, though._
> 
> _POPPY: Quick bite before work?_
> 
> _ANGIE: YESSSSSSSSS._

Sure she’d be seeing Poppy in the afternoon, too, before her date tonight, but she knew that whenever they got together for girl talk her mind would be fixated on her own problems or Poppy’s, which would leave no room for any other thoughts of any kind about one-on-one hangs with  _ anyone _ other than Owen. Just as she wanted it.

Honestly!

* * *

**“Well, let’s just all be grateful that Douglas lives on a golf course like a cartoon millionaire!”**

“It’s both of our faults. We were having a guys’ night.”

Despite her initial fear and frustration over them losing her kid and calling her away from Owen’s bed, Angie couldn’t help the small snort of disbelief from escaping. First dancing and singing in a motel courtyard, and now this? What sorcery was this Will involved in anyway? 

“You hug me, and it’s over.” There. That was more like it.  _ Bring us all back to reality and put things back the way they were again, _ she silently pleaded to the universe.

But if he could get to  _ Douglas _ so soon (Douglas!), then what would a few one-on-one hangs do to  _ Angie, _ who was secretly a big mushball beneath the surface?

Time to say something witty and change the subject before  _ that _ train of thought got away from her, too.

“Well, let’s just all be grateful that Douglas lives on a golf course like a cartoon millionaire!” she said before stomping off to check on Graham. She didn’t look back to see how anyone else reacted, because she didn’t care. 

Honestly!


	3. A Leash is Not a Guinea Pig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Will is definitely NOT thinking about Angie's butt.

**S01E03 A LEASH IS NOT A GUINEA PIG**

**“I got an A+ butt. Yep. Will’s got a butt, too!”**

* * *

Will was definitely _not_ thinking about Angie’s butt. Not when Mr. Withers had agreed that she ranked number one, not when he half-carried her into the funeral and felt her pressed against him (and he pointedly ignored how she felt in his arms or the way she smelled so good in spite of a slight hint of anesthesia and “smoothie” on her breath), and not now, even as he caught a small glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye while she shared her emergency colonoscopy results in front of friends and strangers alike.

“I got an A+ butt.” 

His eyebrows raised at that, and he forced his eyes to look up, as well.

“Yep. Will’s got a butt, too!” 

He laughed nervously and turned to share a look with Sophie. Angie’s butt and his butt spoken about in the same sentence? She was going to be scandalized for sure. It had only taken one month with their new crew to corrupt his precious daughter. Should they move?

“I’m down with that. I guess a lot of us have butts when you really think about it. We’re not that different after all!” 

Okay, definitely some salient points if you were willing to sift through all the crazy. All weirdness aside, her recognition of him was strangely validating in the moment. Was scary-pissed-dad-Angie just as nutty as he was? He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he liked the thought.

It was hard not to like Angie, really. Part of it was definitely that, despite her fierceness (or maybe because of it) she had somehow raised and adored sweet, sensitive Graham. But not only did he have an undeniable chemistry with her amazing son, he really, genuinely was starting to care for Angie, too. And she at least tolerated him, for Graham’s sake. 

Seeing her all out-of-her-mind competitive was amusing and he felt a kind of kinship with her over it, though he definitely had intended to just drop the subject and butt out of Graham’s life enough to appease her. But seeing Angie in that hospital room, scared and confiding in him...well, he’d just _had_ to sit on the gurney and comfort her. At least he hadn’t reached out for her hand. (She probably would have bitten him, anyway.)

And he had very intentionally kept his gaze above her shoulders (however tempting that see-through robe may have been...he was a gentleman, after all, but c’mon, _he had eyes_ ). What he had seen written on her face, though, was a vulnerability that surprised him. And when she confessed that Graham had never met his dad? Suddenly it all became much more real, and intimate, and like they were on the verge of actually being friends. He couldn’t help but soften at her words and offer some of his own in return. He found himself suddenly wanting to make her laugh, and pleased when it happened. Only her residual angry dad vibes and the thinness of her hospital gown kept him from taking her into his arms and swallowing her up in a big friendly hug, and even then it had taken a lot of Will-power. (Yes, he was not ashamed to laugh internally at his own pun.) Thankfully the curtain had opened loudly and he had jumped off the bed so she could be whisked away for the procedure and he could gather his thoughts, regain his balance.

Will was pulled back into the present when he heard the sniffles of Little G beside him. He reached across for Angie’s scarf, because craft corner confessions or not, he definitely wanted to respect Angie’s wishes and lead Graham back into the arms of his mother. But when Graham turned to Will for comfort instead, he stiffened. Angie had already gone berserk a handful of times today, and that was _before_ any drugs amplified her rage or lessened her inhibitions. Just how dead was he about to become? Did he have a will ready just in case? (Another pun! Man, he was on fire today.)

So he was surprised again when she just gave him a shrug of acceptance.

It felt like a really big win.

It did something to him, and he stayed with her even when everyone else got up and danced. He was just content to sit next to her, following her lead, and he found himself almost looking forward to driving her home.

Boy, was he in trouble.

He needed a distraction. Maybe it was time to call up Mia and see about scheduling a visit.


	4. Beyonce Circa Lemonade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie's thoughts are everywhere and nowhere.

**S01E04 BEYONCE CIRCA LEMONADE**

**“I’m gonna put that baby down so hard he** **_never_ ** **wakes up!”**

* * *

Angie was 87% sure she had guessed Will's phone conversation correctly until Poppy mentioned his buttcheeks. Now that she said it, taking a quick peek was allowed, right? Hmm. They were looking a little clenched. Never having been married herself, she only fathomed what dealing with your ex must be like through her late-night talks with Poppy. But Will did look tense. He didn’t talk about Mia much, but she knew enough to piece together _who_ she was, and offered aloud anything she could remember Will or Sophie mentioning about her. 

It was kind of cute how he sighed and blushed and avoided Angie’s gaze as Poppy called him out on it all. He confirmed quickly, throwing out that Mia was flaking again, which earned him a sympathetic grimace from Angie. Once again she was thanking the heavy metal gods that Derek wasn’t gunking up her life like Ron and Mia seemed to all the time.

When he sat down ( _extremely close_ ) next to her, their arms and hands inches but worlds apart, and he started to spiral about how much he “honestly” wasn’t upset, she was reminded of her own use of that word a few weeks prior and the denial that it entailed. Her thoughts were everywhere, but she forced herself to focus on the topic at hand.

“Honestly?” (She couldn’t help teasing him a bit.)

“Honestly!” he responded. 

Well, this could go on all day. 

And she wouldn’t totally hate that.

She was grateful when Douglas came to interrupt them with his talk about marionettes (apparently another one of Will’s quirky interests, which repulsed her and restored order to the universe), but when Miggy started talking about baby Jack’s bedtime routine, her attention was _truly_ diverted, along with everyone else sitting at that picnic table. Milkshakes? A _strobe light?_ Really?

She felt Will was about to go ballistic, so she put her hand on his shoulder and intervened.

 _And it worked!_ Maybe she was starting to get this guy after all. 

She explained sleep training and self-soothing to Miggy, remembering when Graham was just a baby. (Oh, the lungs on that kid! There was an entire week where she had been so sleep-deprived she had hallucinated a shadow-being co-parent to commiserate with, which had scared her into taking a nap. Thankfully Graham had learned to sleep with just Mr. Roar by his side after a few more days, or who knows where they’d be now?)

Then Douglas opened his big dumb chauvinistic pie hole, and suddenly a high-stakes (for her) wager was on and all thoughts of Graham or Will or Mia flew out the window. Would she ever _not_ have to defend her honor and her toughness around these bozos? 

“I’m gonna put that baby down so hard he _never_ wakes up!” Even as the words left her mouth, she heard how terrible she sounded. She probably would have rolled her eyes or laughed it off if it weren’t for the way she could hear, feel, and somehow even _taste_ the disapproval of Poppy and Will behind her. Okay, fine, she had crossed a line and should apologize.

That’s right. D’Amatos could apologize. 

But was something wrong with her? Was she overcompensating? Was she a monster? Who said things like that? And how could she rub her superior parenting skills in Douglas’ face and prove she wasn’t “just” a gooey nurturer when she said such sub-par-parenting things?

Will had probably never inadvertently threatened a child in his life, and she had done it twice in a month.

Seriously, was something wrong with her?


	5. Politician, Freemason, Scientist, Humorist and Diplomat, Ben Franklin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On bad days and best friends.

**S01E05 POLITICIAN, FREEMASON, SCIENTIST, HUMORIST AND DIPLOMAT, BEN FRANKLIN**

**“I’m your best friend?** **_And_ ** **I got** **_murdered?_ ** **”**

* * *

It had undoubtedly been the worst Halloween in recent memory. No one was as enthused about the lights and decorations as he had hoped, and most of them were noncommittal at best about even coming to his party at all. He’d practically had to guilt Angie into coming, even with Graham ready and waiting! Sophie had instantly aged at least seven years, and Will’s panic at raising a tween was  _ not _ just for show. Not only did she want to “dial back” one of the greatest holidays of the whole year, but she had invited an  _ older boy _ who was arguably already the worst fit in the history of elementary-school romance. And now he was supposed to just waste all of his  _ good cheese _ on this clown?

Deep breaths and accommodating smiles just weren’t cutting it. Today was the  _ worst. _

So, even considering he knew it was all a lie just to get out of work, could anyone really blame him for perking up more than he should have when Angie said that she’d told her boss her best friend Will had been murdered?

Lie or not, it was like a drop of rain on his parched, desert soul.

“I’m your best friend?  _ And  _ I got _ murdered?”  _ he couldn’t help but tease, trying (and failing) to hide some of his giddiness at her words.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a warning look. He took the hint. Not the right time to push that button, got it. 

Although, now that he’d said it aloud, and all joking aside, he realized that she probably  _ was _ his closest friend at the moment. Not in the typical best-friend fashion, mind you (like his buds from the glory days of his field work in the weather biz), but...he’d led a pretty isolated life the last few years, so it didn’t take much to feel a connection. He really  _ did _ appreciate the way she could talk him down when he felt his hysteria mounting. It really  _ did _ bother him to notice how down on herself she was as a parent. He really  _ did _ mean it when he’d told Graham how great she was--sure, she was a little scary, too, but Graham was a phenomenal kid, and she kept surprising him with her softness wherever her son was concerned. (But really, she  _ was _ terrifying...maybe he could learn something from her. Or maybe he could find a way to harness that terror for good instead of evil...)

And it really  _ was _ nice having someone to commiserate about their kids growing up too fast, someone to talk to about it all who didn’t make fun of him...or, at least made fun of him in a way he didn’t mind because he knew somehow she didn’t mean it...or maybe even if she meant it there was some affection behind it, anyway. Douglas, Poppy, and Miggy were all fantastic new friends in his village (yep, he still said it in his head!), but there was something  _ different _ with Angie.

Not like  _ that. _

Just...like…genuinely enjoying being around her, and feeling like he’d known her for much longer than a couple of months.

Anyway. Moving on.

Except he couldn’t  _ totally _ move on without getting one last tease in, even though he really  _ did  _ want to make her feel better the way she had for him just now. “Angie, c’mon. You’re doing great, okay? Better than me. I got murdered, remember?”


	6. Lettuce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will gets excited, in several senses of the word.

**S01E06 LETTUCE**

**“Did you put on a dress for this? Did you get a blowout?”**

* * *

Will couldn’t believe he was going to get to see  _ the _ Dr. Dewan in her natural element! Despite living in L.A., his run-ins with celebrities were few and far between, and while she might not be a celebrity in the  _ traditional _ sense of the word, he might as well have been about to see a Phil Collins concert for all the adrenaline coursing through his system right now. And his bucket list was about to gain another  _ big _ checkmark, which was almost as exciting as the event itself!

It’s too bad this once-in-a-lifetime experience was coming at Graham’s expense, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. Thank goodness Sophie already had all of her shots up-to-date so she could join them. Maybe she would be inspired to pursue a career in medicine after watching a true master in action! His nerves gave way to excitement as he distractedly dreamed up another medical-school-themed-but-still-definitely- _ Felicity- _ inspired daydream for his daughter’s future in the confines of the colorful, welcoming office, with the cartoon murals and natural light only serving to buoy his mood further.

But he still noticed.

He noticed the way Angie was practically pacing around the room, her nerves rooted in very different origins from his own. He noticed the edge in her voice as she drilled him on all the ways he should  _ not _ ruin their chances for the mist list, and tried his hardest to commit them all to memory for the sake of their friendship (because he was pretty sure if he didn’t, their tentative friendship would be all but over by the way she was speaking). 

He noticed the way she looked different today...the way the green of her dress made her brown eyes seem brighter somehow, and not just because she looked ready to jump out of her skin at the tiniest provocation.

Wait.

“Did you put on a dress for this?” he asked, as if seeing her for the first time that day. His eyes quickly roved over her face. “Did you get a blowout?”

He wasn’t sure why he was asking, it was  _ obvious _ that she had. He hadn’t ever seen her looking so...feminine. For some reason it unsettled him.

“You have no idea how high the stakes are!” she retorted.

_ There. Angie was back. _

When she chewed him out back at the van and made him go apologize, he felt that order had been restored to the universe once again.

**“I mean, just look at you! Where do you even find a t-shirt with sleeves that big and billowy?”**

* * *

Okay, that stung a little. If he hadn’t been riding the afterglow of another encounter with Dr. Dewan he might have said something, but guilt and relief were simultaneously warring at the forefront of his mind now. 

He partly wanted to tell Angie off. Of  _ course _ it was okay if he slept with Monica! He was a grown man and they were consenting adults and it was none of Angie’s business otherwise. Why would he need her permission just because Monica happened to be Graham’s pediatrician? And how  _ dare _ she insult his favorite sleepwear? The big, billowy sleeves were perfect for hiding and managing his sweat and were a perfectly normal outfit when entertaining a lady.

Another part of him felt hugely relieved, and not just because of the several big releases that had been much-needed after a five-year dry spell. All’s well that ends well, and if Angie had come to that realization, too, then nothing was holding him back now from dating Dr. Dewan in the light of day!

Except…

The “good guy” part of him still felt some contrition at how he had sneaked behind her back about the whole ordeal. 

It’s not like he hadn’t  _ tried _ to honor her wishes. But sometimes the fates had other plans! Life was such a roller coaster, and with a force of nature like Monica surprising him at every turn, he was  _ really _ enjoying the ride. She really did smell _so good,_ and now that shirt smelled just like her, and _crap_ what if Angie could smell her on him?

Still…

_ Shoot.  _ Was that Monica’s voice he heard just now?

Busted!


	7. They Call Me Dr. Biscuits!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There wasn't much of #Angill in this episode...so this is super short. :) Why the weird expression on Angie's face towards the beginning? A quick peek into the many feelings she doesn't want to examine.

**S01E07 THEY CALL ME DOCTOR BISCUITS!**

**“Sophie! Ask me a hard question!”**

**“How old will I be when you die?”**

**“Probably fifty-one.”**

* * *

Angie couldn’t explain her reaction. Was she impressed that Will had an answer for such a strange question? Was she envious of the ease with which he had delivered it? Was she second-guessing her friendship with such a dorky guy as William Cooper? Was she annoyed that he was being all uppity about lying to children when it was so clearly the way to go in these situations? Was she grossed out about Douglas’ story of “Aunt Gail” and the disturbing mental images it dredged up?

Was she suddenly wondering how old  _ Graham _ would be when  _ she  _ died and spiraling at the thought of who would take care of him if she did? Or was she wanting to smack the smugness out of him when he turned back to her with a “told you so” face, but also too wrapped up in a panic and all the other feelings to know what to say or do in response?

Whatever thoughts or feelings they were, they forced her to turn away from him slowly with a stunned, slightly confused look on her face.

At least they were distracting her from the thought of him with Dr. Dewan. She still hadn’t forgiven him completely, even though she guessed it had all turned out okay. There was just something about the whole situation that bugged her, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. Sure, she had never been super forgiving as a person, but there really wasn’t much to forgive exactly in this case, right?

Thank goodness for the twins messing with Miggy’s car and the task of supporting her son in the school play auditions to keep her mind from having to delve into it any deeper.


	8. The Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will reflects on his day with Angie.

**S01E08 THE BEAST**

**“I think our kids want to see us happy.”**

* * *

Will was used to feeling a  _ lot _ of feelings, pretty intensely and often all at once. But somehow he was losing his equilibrium (and also gaining it back again) more and more frequently lately.  Usually in situations involving the woman standing across from him now.

It was kind of exhilarating.

Almost as much as being plunged into the depths of a category two storm.

Had he been surprised to find out that Angie loved heavy metal? Yes, though  _ why _ it surprised him he really couldn’t say. It tracked, he supposed after giving it some thought, although it certainly added a new dimension to her already-complex persona. The way she owned her rage was admirable, even if he sort of wished she didn’t see him as a “happy” old fuddy-duddy who could never really “get it.”

He thought he was starting to “get” her pretty well, actually.

But the happiness on her face had been something he wanted to recreate. (Why, exactly? Again, he couldn’t really say.) When she had tricked him into driving into the storm, he had shared his shameful recklessness with her, hoping she wouldn’t see him in a bad light as he told her the Glen story but also pleading to be understood. She had surprised him again, not only seeming more than okay with it, but even egging him on a little. And then they had barely avoided the fallen tree in the road and gotten stuck, and his panic had set in, and then  _ her _ panic had set in. Strangely enough, seeing her fear had somehow centered him. Maybe it was easier to take turns freaking out. Maybe, he had supposed, it was just his turn to be the voice of reason.

Then there was the surge of adrenaline and nostalgia as the "music" amped up and the storm raged on and together they had literally pushed a minivan out of its hole. He couldn’t keep from high-fiving her, from hugging her, from stepping into the middle of the road and letting the storm soak him through, almost taunting it. Once again he’d gotten carried away (maybe not physically like Glen had, but still!) and as a result of his carelessness, poor Angie had been blasted by a runaway frond!  _ This. _ This was why he had to rein it in when it came to weather, right?

But maybe…

The weight of her hand on his shoulder as they walked into the kitchen anchored him. The way her eyes sparkled, hair still wet, as she complimented him...it made him want to impress her more often. Obviously he was still figuring out how to do that, since she couldn’t really buy into the “ferocious mistress” analogy, but still. _Did she actually just call him a badass?_

Then she said it. “I think our kids want to see us happy.”

How had she turned  _ his lesson for her _ back onto him so easily? And why did it pierce him so thoroughly? 

But maybe…

Maybe she was right. 

He certainly  _ had _ been happy today. And not because of anything related to fatherhood or dating or  _ anything _ other than just feeling like  _ himself _ again for the first time in he couldn’t remember how long. It was icing on the cake that Angie seemed to like him better like that, too. He noticed their look was still lingering, and he wondered…

“By the way, did you have a thing for The Beast?” he probed, half teasing but halfway holding out hope. Which was bad, right? He had a pretty good thing going with Monica, and he and Angie were really just starting to feel like actual friends outside of their kids. He shouldn’t push it, right? What would he even say if she said ‘yes’?

“‘Cause The Beast was getting a vibe!” Where did  _ that _ come from?

Storms definitely made him overconfident.

Thankfully, she deflected and he distracted her (and himself) with videos and brownies, pushing those thoughts far, far away.

Whatever. It was for the best, really. 

Still, he felt the solidifying bonds of friendship, forged not in fire but in the midst of a cyclone. And she  _ was _ right. While he didn’t for one  _ second _ regret being so available for his daughter all these years, he  _ did _ miss being out in the field and pursuing passions of his own. And it  _ did _ feel good to rekindle that fire in his belly a little.

Sophie was in school full days now, and he also had found a great group of friends. Schedules and safe spaces were opening up more and more for their little family.

Could The Beast be domesticated instead of euthanized this time around? Maybe there was a way to have the best of both worlds? 


	9. Ronald Regan's White House Collectible Pen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tale of two cliques.

**S01E09 RONALD REGAN’S WHITE HOUSE COLLECTIBLE PEN**

**“He’s worse than Sloppy Poppy.”**

* * *

Dunking on Will was embarrassingly easy, because she basically just had to say all the mean things that the bitterest parts of her already thought. Focusing on men’s flaws was second-nature, after all. And, let’s be honest, he kind of had it coming, right? She had  _ tried _ to warn him, after all. It was refreshing to be around other slightly malicious women where she didn’t have to filter out the negative bits that she often had to hold back with her usual group of friends.

At least, that’s what Angie told herself. 

Repeatedly. 

She certainly didn’t hate Will, but venting her frustration about his dorkiness was a kind of unburdening. She felt lighter, really.

Until the cameras.

Until the snickers.

Until Ms. “I-obviously-want-to-get-into-Will’s-pants” spoke up.

“He’s worse than Sloppy Poppy!”

Suddenly the weight of the words, the room, the evil “We’ve’ers” in front of her, came crashing down on her in one guilty blast. With the weight came clarity.

This wasn’t even about Will at all, was it? This was about sad, power-hungry housewives who had nothing better to do than to take down genuinely good people, looking down their noses at her friends, at  _ her _ . It was about  _ all _ of them. So which group did she care about belonging to more? There was no contest. She already  _ had _ a clique, and it was one of misfits and weirdos and unpopular saps who  _ loved _ their kids and each other more than anything, and she was proud to claim them.

Wasn’t that better than popularity?

She looked to the stage, surprising even herself with the defensiveness and tenderness she felt as she watched her friend rattle on about the lame subject of when to get their children cell phones. (Not that she would  _ ever _ tell him, or anyone for that matter, but she  _ did _ admire all the extra-mile things he did for their kids and for the people he cared about.)

The words and actions came easily after that. 


End file.
